There are several reasons why people scarcely explored Third World ruins. Adventure freaks memorized weaving paths of sewage canals and vast abandoned metal tunnels, but ventured only within upper level limits, anything below that level and they would be lost to miles of unrecoverable ground. Squads also guarded most passages into the underground, frequently going below the surface to dig out hiding Defectives. It was dangerous, anybody that wasn't a defective was severely punished.

Teenagers often dared each other to spend the night in the Underground; few returned to the sun alive. The dwellings consisted of metal pipe-line mazes, designed and built for thousands of inhabitants, deeper one went the more civilized tunnels formed themselves, bunkers transformed into drafty, cold rooms bare of belongings. Painted radioactive warning signs peeled in curls off the smooth steel.

Aiden reached up, his small hand touching the symbol coated in slime, encasing him in an enormous tunnel. He felt like a mole burrowing through the soil with his giant claws, blindly shuffling along his home. Fifteen feet high above his head, he stared up at the roof of the pipe, wondering if these tunnels could be called a mole warren for the Third World people. Poison had reached them on the top floor, the reason behind all the warnings.

Brushing the green slime onto his thermal pants, he wandered the open space, away from the breezes of fresh air. If he wanted excitement, he would have to travel deeper into the third or fourth levels of the underground. Walking, Aiden checked his surroundings with an occasional glance over his shoulder and hunkered in the shadows. He had difficulty seeing beyond his hand, but special night vision technology allowed Squads to see their targets feet ahead of them.

Blinding white light illuminated the tunnel ahead, extending past the center of the path. Moths fluttered eagerly around the three spotlights clustered together and dappled the ground with black shadow spots. Nobody huddled under the brightness, reassuring the stiffened tension in his shoulders.

He slipped far out of reach of the friendly spotlights, hugging his side to the steel walls. Dust kicked up from his sneakers drifted into the circle, clouding up the dirt ground. A beep ended the cautious silence and echoed loudly in the space. Aiden bolted, electric tingles shooting up his calves as he used his ability. Speed placed into his feet, he ran quicker than the average horse, skidding as he sharply rounded a corner, body crashing to the ground.

Red specks polka-dotted the areas as bullets automatically sprayed in all directions, peppering the ground and ricocheting off the steel. Sparks flew from the collisions, deafening gunshots alerted everything nearby. Aiden pressed himself flat on the dirt, arms protecting his head. He waited for pounding footsteps and harsh voices of the Squads to begin yelling into their mics.

It didn't come.

Aiden slowly lifted his head, his hands reaching behind him for his knives. Fingers curled, grabbing the leather hilt of one and drew it out of his backpack. He rose, cautious, ready to spring at the slightest movement. Head poked around the corner, eyes darted side to side and watched the spotlights resume their gift of vicious sanctum. Relaxing, he held his dagger behind him and spotted the familiar glint of the bullet box tucked behind the lights.

He turned away from the Squad trap. Placing faint steps forward, he edged his way down the tunnel. It was dark and damp in underground system, plenty of inadequate spots for people to live. Ignorant Defectives sought out that glimmer from the spotlights, oblivious to the danger when they entered the light. Experienced ones knew better and avoided those spotlights at all costs. He'd been lucky. Times like those were when he appreciated his ability; changing the speed of himself and other objects.

Aiden stopped in his tracks, the system path ended, the blank cement wall staring back at him. There was nowhere for him to go besides backtracking his steps. Frowning, he tapped his sneaker in the dirt and walked several paces to the right. He tried again before walking to the left. Hitting his shoe, a loud clang answered as he hit metal. Success glowed in his gaze, stormy blue eyes glinting, an overwrought eagerness consumed the depths. Grinning, he knelt down and brushed aside layers of dust and dirt. The rusted hatch rested beneath his feet, broken bolts remained where the handle should have been. Squads sealed off the only way down; he came prepared for a tricky situation such as this.

His backpack dutifully slung over his bag held valuable contents, including a long piece of scratchy rope. Tying a knot, he jerked several times to make sure it held fast around one of the bolts. Satisfied, he tugged and jerked, grunting as his muscles strained with exertion. The hatch squealed, refusing to budge, until it loosened and grudgingly flipped open. Aiden fell back onto his bottom, panting, red welts forming on his hands.

Job done, he untied the knot and wrapped the rope back into his backpack and slung it over his back. On his feet, he stared down at the ladder, opening his fists so air could kiss his rope burn. Shadows engulfed the hatch, the musty odors of sewage filling his nose until he smelled nothing else. Least bit phased, he tucked himself on the ladder and closed the hatch over his head. He heard nothing but the ragged sound of his breaths. Deciding now was the best time, he placed his feet on the poles and allowed his body to slide towards the second level. Trapped wind whistled in his ears, brown locks of his hair whipped across the cheeks of his mask.

Aiden's sneakers smacked the metal floor, uttering a loud clang. Adjusting his backpack, he parted with the ladder and strode along the walkway. Murky sludge gurgled below and green water swirled as suspicious objects covered in flies floated past. Moss hung off the railings, thriving off the humid air. Steam hissed out of pipes strung along the sewer walls. He ignored the horrendous smell of feces and urine, and the stench of rotting flesh. Flies buzzed in his ears, landing on his hair and biting his sweaty neck.

Slapping the insects as they nipped his skin, he quickened his pace, taking turns right and left. Passages appeared to be the same, yet he knew the difference between safe and dangerous, north and south. Blood stains splattered the pipes, red hand prints marked the West tunnel to be invaded with Squads. Tattered shirts and a ratty jacket pocketed with holes told him the elderly Defective was able to put her laundry out to dry; he was safe if he went the tunnels South. Rusted metal walls told stories through tiny specific details Aiden picked up as he walked.

The sewers also kindly reminded him of the rats. He kneeled to inspect a particular new mark on a ramp across a sewage passage, and brushed his fingers over a Roman numeral six sketched over a series of squiggles. Aiden perked up, his head snapped behind him to stare at the shadows. He slowly rose, muscles bunched and coiled as he walked across the ramp. Caution convinced him to hug the slime coated wall, blue eyes staring down the passage, and he scanned his surroundings.

If he shifted even close to the left hallway, he would've greeted an army of hideous rats. Shrill squeaks barely created noise in the sewage tunnel, but close to thousands of tiny paws scurried with confidence along the metal railings and grates. Disease ridden bodies covered in brown to black fur slick with grease and moisture and mud swarmed the pathway. Pinks tails lashed and paws equipped with sharp claws hooked into the pipe railing. The floor was swallowed whole, he only saw moving brown and black shapes.

Aiden held his breath, but still managed to catch of the stench of blood and flesh. He realized it wasn't mud on their pelts, it was fresh blood and chunks of corpse. The tide continued to journey along, glowing beady red eyes staring straight through him, they only triggered and reacted to movement. Minuscule bits of metal decorated each rodent, the manufactured side of them showing through. Normals rats hid in the crevices, crooks, and crannies of the underground remnants. These rats were designed to track, spy, and hunt.

Each kind of robotic rat was programmed for its own specific motive, and this pack was craving blood. Aiden knew whether he lived or died depended on how long he could remain frozen, attached to the wall. He regulated how much he sipped in air, enough to keep him from fainting. His fighting spirit may be strong, but rats were fiends no Defective played around with. He or she could become easily overpowered in a matter of seconds.

Suddenly, a brown rat larger than the others lifted its head, whiskers twitched and ripped pinks ears flicked back and forth. Whites scars marred the side of its head, and it's glass eye was cracked but still functional, it glowed in the darkness. It's companions paused and stared at the large rodent, squeaking as though questioning what was amiss. Aiden's heart pounded, his ears roared from the blood rushing through his veins. If he had to fight he would change forms immediately and incinerate the ugly beasts.

Hand clenching, he waited and watched, deciding his next move. The rat let out a loud raspy squeak. It's followers sniffed back and went into action. Aiden prepared for little bodies to come flying at him, but instead he watched as the rats all crawled up the sewage walls likes millions of black spiders and out of site. He heard them running in all directions, leaving the big rat, the leader, alone.

It wiggled its nose, smelling the air, yellow teeth bared in a gruesome grin. Aiden drew his blade from his coat pocket, the worry of being eaten alive dissipating. The glass cracked eye zoomed in of the subtle movement, and the rat snapped its head to stare at him. He felt like cameras were implanted deep inside the rat's skull, the lens working as the squads watched him in the shadows.

The rat screeched like a furious bird.

Aiden lunged forward, blade shielding his face. His sneakers barely made noise on the metal grate, unable to alert more rats nearby. The big rat understand it couldn't hope to win and fled, leaping off the railing and scampering down the grate. It tried to clamber up a small hole, but he grabbed the long skinny tail and bashed it against the pipe railing. The rat squealed in pain and thrashed as Aiden slammed it to the floor. He proceeded, his shoe connecting with the rat's head, crushing metal fragments, cords, and wires.

The rat kicked out for a few seconds more, struggling futilely as its programs shut down. It's back arched, spine cracking before it finally lay still.

Aiden picked up the dead rat by the tail, dangling it's limp body in front of him. The glass around of eyes were broken, the shards littered around his feet. The rat reeked worse closer to him, so he dumped the carcass inside his duffel bag. He needed to inspect the stomach contents later. Stories were told among the acid melted good digesting in the gut, he could safely update himself on Underground news.

Feeling more relaxed and satisfied after slaughtering an enemy rat, he tread down the metal ramp, walking carefully so he didn't spook the rat army out of hiding. Sticky blood that splattered his shoes tried unsuccessfully to glue his sneakers to the metal. He lifted up his sneaker with the most gore, inspecting blood dripping off his sole. A ruddy trail stretched behind him, clearly marking his path.

Staring for a moment longer, he debated the chances of dying if his trail was discovered. It seemed far out of his favor, so he stripped off his shoes. He wriggled his toes, finding his surprisingly useful appendages amusing. Aiden chuckled lightly to himself, the thrilled sound muffled behind porcelain. Tiny squeaks announced the presence of a rat behind, and his merriment ended.

In an instance, he threw his blade towards the noise. The pointed tip connected, squelching as it sank deep inside plump flesh. Frozen, he waited several seconds, patiently holding still until he felt confident his knife slaughtered the rat. He inched towards the shadowed corner towards the half hidden limp body of another rat.

Leaner, it appeared a replica of the hunter rodent he battered moments before. Licking his chapped lips, he felt a deep hunger to taste test the slimy intestines already beginning to bloat under the thin layer of fur. Nose deep, he stopped his mouth from biting the leg and regained control over his mind, especially the inner monster drooling over the potential feast. Aiden tossed the rat, mournfully watching the rat plunge head first, it's body sinking quickly under the murky water.

Sighing, he paused to drop his bag to the floor, flipping open the top. Fingers shaking, he selected the other tomato wrapped neatly inside his school shirt. When his teeth bit down, it was a struggle not to moan out loud. The after effects of his power subsided, and he finished the tomato with ease.  

Aiden felt strength return to his muscles as his hunger ebbed, warding off until he would use his power once more. He decided to tread carefully until he reached his destination, he didn't want his black hole of a stomach to consume all the food he saved. Careful not to smack his sneakers on the metal grates, he walked the rest of the short distance and stopped when he reached a smaller tunnel. It sloped downwards towards the lower levels; meant for fleeing radiation and other dangers quickly during the Third World. 

He sat down on his bottom with his knees tucked up to his chin for extra protection. Scooting forward, he slid down the narrow tunnel, eyes squinted against the cold breeze. In a matter of minutes, his feet kicked up a cloud of dust when he landed on the third of the lowest tunnel level. The ground consisted of a fine dirt, it created a mist while he walked in the darkness with only lines of white lights illuminating the path on either side of him. There were only two ways to go, North or South, so he picked North. Shoulders slumped, hands in his pockets he walked less cautiously, knowing he could be safe for a small while in the enormous tunnel that yawned over his head. 

Third level tunnels snaked through the underground, they formed the living quarters for the inhabitants that survived the high density radiation levels. Despite only two directions, if he walked in one direction he'd soon come upon a dome shape room like a hollowed out turtle shell. Poor and on the run Defectives took shelter in those domes, using the other tunnels to find new domes and secretive sanctuaries that the squads would never find. The third level was massive, but the fourth and fifth were even larger. No one, not even he, had been able to discover a course into the lower levels. They were unreachable. 

Brightness dissipated the shadows swallowing the tunnel as he approached a dome, the tunnel breaking off towards a smooth and high ceiling. There wasn't much light too clearly see the worn details of the peoples' faces, but he could clearly see them hunched together in blankets, seeking warmth among each other. He visualized the dirt and dried blood in their hair and coating their gaunt cheeks. Fearful gazes looked up as he walked into view, relaxing upon realization he was just a small child that didn't appear to want to harm him. 

Aiden stopped in the center of the dome, taking in the clusters of the haggard poor mingled with a few Defectives hiding among their clothes and blankets. He pulled off his fox mask to rest on the back of his head. He stared at all of them, silently judging how they could live such pitiful lives behind his guarded eyes. Letting out a sigh, he began to walk towards an elderly woman sitting alone far from the main groups. She raised her blind eyes as he approached closer, smiling a black gap-toothed grin that ate up her shriveled and wrinkled face. 

"Here," Aiden dropped his bag on the ground to pull out his last fresh tomato, placing it into her calloused palms. He stared at her face as she gazed intently on the ground as though trying to see the vegetable. 

The old woman didn't speak a word and bit into the tomato silently. 

He knelt beside her, equally silent, noticing her lack of shoes. She was missing a few toe nails on her left foot while the rest were nubs of previously long and chipped nails. His fingers itched to smooth her grey dry hair from her face, and he began reaching out towards her when she lifted her head to stare directly at him. 

"Thank you child," her leathery voice croaked, unused for ages,"You have helped an old soul like me for a long time, so let me help you." 

Aiden retracted his hand, feeling the tendrils of the black hole that made him calm. He felt a stirring in his head, brimming with feelings he couldn't understand before they vanished just as fast. 

The old woman raised her finger to point at the east tunnel, but her eyes remained trained on him. "You have been lost for a long time." 

This caused the Cateline side of him to become puzzled, but he felt no such emotion. Aiden knew she couldn't see, but he pointed his finger towards the ceiling. "I know my way, I live above the surface." 

"You will be found, go there," she urged, suddenly wobbling as she gathered her skeletal body to her feet. Holding the half-eaten tomato, she hobbled in the opposite direction without sparing him another look or word. 

Aiden sat in silence to mull over the old lady's statement. Simply, there was no reason or motive for him to go in that direction. He would not follow her orders; an old woman like that was probably delusional. His pack felt heavier as he began shifting through his belongings and counted to make sure he still had all he needed. 

Hurried footsteps pounded on the dirt floor, echoing like bass drums in the tunnel the woman had directed him to follow. A worn poor man stumbled into view, his hand held against his chest as though he struggled to breathe. People started to climb to their feet, startled by his sudden appearance. "They're coming!" The man shouted with urgency, his feet stumbling as he ran for cover.